


golden wings

by halcyonskies



Series: OTP Challenge [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Caretaker Castiel, De-Aged Dean, Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel, Kid Fic, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eventually they'll figure out how to get Dean back to normal. For now, taking care of him isn't much of a hardship. Even if there are some days when Castiel thinks his hair is going to go gray much sooner than it should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	golden wings

**Author's Note:**

> 7th Challenge - Wearing The Other's Clothes

Dean was no longer in the main room when Castiel returned from the kitchen.

It was a near thing, but he didn’t panic. He and Sam had spent the better part of a week ‘child-proofing’ the Bunker, sealing away the labyrinthine network of artifact-filled rooms and dungeons. As of now, the only places Dean could reach (especially in the short time Castiel had been gone) were the library, kitchen, and dormitories. 

Abandoning Dean’s lunch on a nearby table, Castiel checked the library first, as it was closest. A cursory inspection revealed nothing – no tiny socked feet poking out from behind a bookshelf, no glimpse of child-soft hair beneath the huge mahogany tables. Once he’d exhausted all possible hiding places, Castiel headed for the dormitories. 

As it turned out, Castiel was saved from a tedious search by the very object of his pursuit. Dean’s lilting, childlike voice wasn’t exactly familiar, but Castiel had become accustomed to it in the weeks since his hunter had been transformed. Feeling his heartbeat slowing – and trying to convince himself that he hadn’t been even a little bit worried – Castiel pushed the door to his own room open. 

And paused.

From his position on the floor in front of Castiel’s closet, Dean looked up and waved. “Hi, Cas!”

Castiel recognized the coat Dean had snatched off the rack instantly, though it hardly looked like a coat the way Dean was wearing it. The boy was essentially swimming in stiff beige cloth, little hands concealed by the tapering sleeves. An assortment of  t-shirts and sweaters were scattered about, obviously having been plucked off their hangers by curious hands, but it seemed as though Castiel’s old trench was the only article Dean had deemed suitable to wear.

Before Castiel could articulate a response to this development, Dean spoke again. “Look, Cas, I’m an angel of the Lord!”

The boy’s countenance twisted into one of exaggerated seriousness, green eyes gone hard and steely, and that was the moment Castiel’s heart absolutely melted. He felt his face creasing into a smile and knew even without having Sam there to tease him that his expression was completely besotted. He knelt down beside his small friend, subtly moving the coat’s trailing hem away from Dean’s feet so that he wouldn’t trip himself. 

“Are you, now?”

“Yeah, see? I’ve got the coat and wings and everything!”

“Wings?”

Dean frowned, shoulders slumping a little. “Can’t you see them?”

Castiel hadn’t been human for very long. Though he was much better at interacting with them than he’d ever been as an angel (and getting better all the time), he still sometimes missed crucial social cues due to sheer ignorance. It didn’t help that he’d had little practice in dealing with children in any capacity, but even he could tell when a toddler’s innocence needed to be indulged. 

Making a show of looking over Dean’s shoulder, Castiel nodded gravely. “Oh yes, I see them. Forgive me, Dean – it’s harder to notice things like that now that I’m human.”

Saying it out loud still pricked a little, as Castiel suspected it always would; perhaps being human was preferable to being a soldier of God, but that didn’t change the fact that it would always be a part of him. Seeing Dean’s beatific smile took a bit of the sting out of the admittance, however. 

“Yeah, they’re awesome!” Dean spread his arms out in pantomime of the wings he claimed to have; Castiel did his best to hide his amusement when the sleeves of his coat dangled comically over Dean’s hands. “See, they’re super big! An’, an’ black, and covered all over with lightning! Just like yours.”

That hurt a little more, being reminded of his wings. It was obvious Dean wasn’t trying to be cruel, citing the only reference he knew out of love for Castiel, and that was the reason he found it so easy to tamp the melancholy down.

“I don’t think so,” Castiel hummed, settling his hands on Dean’s shoulders. He made as if he was examining Dean’s wings closely, and then shook his head. “Oh no, Dean, they’re not black at all.”

“They’re not?” Dean asked, voice small and uncertain.

“No. They’re bright and shining, like gold.”

“Really?” Dean’s eyes grew wide, and then he was craning his neck over his shoulder like he’d forgotten this was only supposed to be pretend. 

“Yes. There’s little bits of green and blue and red in there, too. Almost like pirate’s treasure.”

“Wow.” Dean squinted at the empty space behind him for a moment more, then turned back to Castiel, expression a little wondrous. “But, but they’re still really big, right? They’re not all shrimpy, like me?”

Castiel shook his head, rising to his feet. “They’re just as big as mine used to be.”

“An’ covered in lightning, right? That’s the best part, Cas!”

“Of course.” Castiel hooked his arms under Dean’s and hoisted the little boy up, electing to ignore the mess of his clothing for now. “Now, why don’t we finish lunch before we attempt a flying lesson?”

“Flying?” Dean parroted, sounding nervous.

“You’ll like it, I promise. And I’ll be right there with you if you get scared.”

“Angels don’t get scared, Cas.”

Castiel’s arms tightened fractionally around Dean. “Nevertheless, I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

A brief silence. Then, “Swear on it, Cas?”

“I swear, Dean.”  


End file.
